


Bendy and the Ink Machine: Inktober

by Tomboyshapeshifter



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Fictober, Inktober, bendy - Freeform, boris the wolf, more characters coming soon and tags will be updated each chapter, most likely will have pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomboyshapeshifter/pseuds/Tomboyshapeshifter
Summary: Decided to have some fun with Inktober in my own little way.   Little ficlets will be uploaded every day this month that goes along with the theme of the day.  Some of them will be...interesting enough.Knowing me, some chapters will have romances so look forward to those.





	1. Bendy the Ink Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Bendy inktober sheet found on tumblr. Hope you guys like it as it will just be me exercising my writing skills.

He was...incomplete.

That is the most simple of explanations and one of the truly honest ways to describe him, if you would ever have to pick a word. A singular word that would be the essence of who and what he was as an existence. 

It is not hard to see why such a word was chosen and how it fits. Anyone who has seen him just for a moment in the corner of his or her eye would see. His form hidden in the darkest of shadows mixed with the constant leaking of ink in this old decrypted studio could tell that he was…

Incomplete. 

A horrible mesh mash of failure and delusions created his poor excuse for a body. With his thin skeletal form shuddering with every breath and with each pain filled crooked step he took, it was obvious that something went wrong. The ink wasn’t settling, not keeping true to the daydreamer’s vision of the mischievous little devil he was supposed to be. 

Drip after drip of darkness fell from him. Like blood from a wound that forever reopened with each movement he made of his misshapen body. The pain never ebbing, but never seen as it hides behind a plastered Cheshire grin. 

Relief far from his grasp. Has been for 30 years. Fury growing inside the creature that should have never been born. Should have never existed outside of the screen performing before children and adults, bringing joy, enticing laughter from pits of bellies. Now, a foil to its true meaning as sorrow is all that is wrought from its clutches. Whimpers and pleading from lips that used to cheer and express such happiness from his mere presence. A presence that has become the center of the residents’ existence, their life and death. An entity to be praised and feared. To obey and to stay clear from. Years have passed and everything has settled with the order of things. 

Never changing. 

Or so it seemed… no one in the studio knows the reason, but something about the incomplete Dancing Devil Darling seems different. The air has shifted and the way he moves seems to be more steady and with more thoughtful intent. 

It has caused quite a few of the residents to hide. For, though many complain about the dry state of consistency, it is a strange comfort that holds tight onto the heart that shatters if something strange occurs. A change in their regularly scheduled programming. 

But, one thing for certain as the ones who were able to survive seeing him from a distance has said: His smile seemed genuine. That one remark sent several shivers down everyone’s backs that heard it. 

Genuine? What is that supposed to mean? It was painted on, kept to model, as it was one of the only things that survived from being transferred from screen to flesh.

A smile that in normal circumstances would bring even slight happiness to those around them. A contagious gesture formed from the lips as a sign of joy or pleasantries. Why would that be anything bad?

Well...Why would a Devil be smiling? If it wasn’t for anything horrible?

The answer came from something that no one would have thought would have been heard again. The creaking of the door to the outside as it swung open. The footsteps as a living, breathing, HUMAN walking inside the studio, causing all those that heard hold their breathe. Whatever was left of their hearts pounding so hard in their chests that they barely could hear the familiar voice speak out into their hell. 

In that moment everyone finally understood the meaning behind that smile.

The devil was finally going to be what it should have been from the moment the ritual took place all those years ago. 

Complete.


	2. Boris the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now its time for our good pal Boris. Hope you guys like it.

There was a lot that could be agreed on in this hellish landscape and most would tell you these if you asked them: 

1.Stay out of the demons way.  
2.Just leave that crazy guy that calls himself the prophet alone, he’ll deal with himself.  
3.The angel is dangerous. 

But, most importantly and collectively, what everyone agrees with all certainty, that it was better to be an Edgar or a Charlie, who are so deformed and misshapen that they could barely speak.

Then to be a Boris.

Why was it so bad to be a Boris? At first you would think it wouldn’t be so bad. Most tend to keep to their original design, meaning they were physically fit and able to take care of themselves. And back when the cartoon was still playing on the screens, he was a favorite amongst the fans. A regular on the ole show that helped bring in the laughs with his nonchalant gluttony and him being a stern foil to the mischievous little devil. 

But, being the wolf only made you more of a target. 

His height alone, made him the most noticeable of the toons. To anyone with malicious intent, he was like a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean of ink. With a place that thrived with darkness and compact hiding places...being big and recognizable is not the best thing to be. 

Many who have been cycled through the Ink machine and became Boris before have told the same stories. Retelling the same fears, nightmares that they still suffered from, even after years have passed. 

They would tell of how they would constantly have to hide, unable to tell who was friend or foe. How they couldn’t even fit inside the Alice stations without hurting themselves as they were too big. 

They told of how their body felt different then the regular inky persona that they originally took when the curse befell them. It felt too close to skin, too close to what they could have again, yet it was still so gelatinous. A firm stable shape but would give out at any moment with the wrong type of pressure to the right spot. 

It felt wrong. Each step, each stretch, each movement just felt wrong. It wasn’t them, yet they felt everything and just like in a bad dream they would pinch themselves. To find out that it was all real and they were living it. 

But, the worst part. 

The truly worst part about being Boris.

Is that when you are finally captured. When you are finally strapped down onto that damnable table. Your arms and legs constructed by tight belts and that overly sweet voice of the angel, that tasted like milk about to turn sour, cooed to you. 

How she would be thanking you for bringing her what she needs to be perfect, to be whole once more. The amount of crazy that radiated off her, that would send chills down even the most unstable person’s spine. All of those feelings swirling inside your toon body right at that moment.

Wasn’t compared to that knife of hers as it plunged into your chest, ripping out your still beating heart.


	3. Alice Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice Angels turn for the 3rd day.

She was originally brought into the show to add flavour to the line up. Their little star was glowing bright and he needed as many pals to play with as much as possible to keep their audience entertained. 

Sure, they had the butcher gang and they were always fun to tear down and to have Bendy, their little hero, to mess up their plans. But, it was always more of the same: The gang tries to do something mischievous and is always outsmarted by the devil because they looked down on him or he was bored. 

Boris was good for a grumpy sidekick or some good push around, but that was becoming rather replicative as well. People adored seeing the wolf’s face, but it all felt a little too… one sided in their little gang. 

No one was able to put a finger on what the show needed. It needed something and it was so close to the tip of their tongue that they could just taste it. 

But, nothing came forth from their lips. The thought forever trapped inside their minds that they all kept itching and scratching till they worried they would become bald.

And like all great inspirations and ideas, Alice finally surfaced through the tired mind of a poor soul, slumped over his desk as he worked. Fingers numb, body running on steam and cold coffee. Reeking of end of the week and the very end of the deadline was rearing its ugly little head. Keeping the workers strapped to their offices and eyes glued to their papers. 

When their savior comes in with a small warm home cooked meal, a soft gentle smile that cleared up the fog and a voice that woke them up from their dreary workaholic lifestyle.

With the light shining behind her, there was only one way to describe the feminine beauty that radiated pure love and comfort. 

Angelic.

And with that one encounter from a loving wife, to the studio that her husband help built. Wanting to be with him in one of the most trying times, came a vision that would help shape the future of Joey Drew Studios. 

Alice Angel was an immediate hit with the fans. She grew so big in fact, that she soon starred in her own episodes as the star without Bendy anywhere to be seen. Her merchandise soon disappearing off shelves and her face seen throughout the studio as the main mascot to Heavenly Toys. Her visage appearing in standees, posters and large metal sculptures that would smile down on you with that caring look she always carried. 

Some believed that part of her popularity was because of her voice actress. The lovely Susie Campbell who loaned her sweet tones to the 2d angel. Bringing her to life on screen, soothing those lonely souls in the harsh times that were the 1930’s. 

Her popularity only growing until the owner of the studio: THE Mister Joey Drew himself. Did something that still perplexed everyone and changed the voice actress. The change was met with distaste as the viewers that had taken comfort in the gentleness of the voice was now listening to a whole new chippier tune. 

It wasn’t unpleasant...but it wasn’t the same. 

So, just like the spark that ignited her beginnings and popularity, it vanished with only smoke leaving its faint trails. Her toys unsold along the walls, her new episodes left unwatched and she became overshadowed by the demon once more. 

But, despite all that, some people clutched onto the comfort that she gave the first time they met her on screen. Her simple beauty and her sweet voice as she spoke. She became the visage that people thought of for comfort in dark times. 

A few becoming so obsessive of her that they wished they were her. Wanting to cast out their old lives that have become so painful that maybe, being the idealized vision of peace and hope could finally free them from the suffering. 

Perhaps with time, effort, and belief, their dreams could come true after all…

Right Susie?


End file.
